I Get to Be With You
by AirNationOracle
Summary: What was becoming a problem for Kurt's emotional heart inadvertently becomes the solution for Sam's love; S3!AU


**Title**: I Get to Be With You

**Rated**: M

**Writing Time**: 09/24-11/10/2012

**Pairing(s)**: Kurt/Sam

**Warnings**: Cheating!Kurt (unapologetic and not-giving-a-crap me ;), stripper!Sam, detailed sexy times, detailed sexual exploration, character (Blaine) bashing, some language, mature themes, slight S3 AU and some teen angst. You don't like, don't read. You have been warned.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own _Glee_. If I did, Chris Colfer/Kurt would get much more screen time, the show would be better written (or I'd at least _try_), Quam, Samtana, Klaine and Samcedes would've NEVER happened and Chord Overstreet/Sam would've never left the show after the end of season two! That and Chord would never leave my bedroom but that's a story for another time (and one I'd be too selfish to share ;) So without further ado, on with the smoochies ^^

**Summary**: Kurt and Sam find themselves in the right place at the right time with all the wrong feelings.

**Author's Note**: No clue where this came from; just something I started writing and couldn't let go until it was done. No I don't condone cheating but in my opinion (and yes, my stories so I'm _allowed_ to express my opinions) Blaine Anderson is a poor excuse for not only a boyfriend but a boy as well so that (again, in my opinion) makes it okay for Kurt to sneak around on him because let's face it, sooner or later canon!Blaine will probably do the same. That and in this fic, Kurt's fooling around with Sam, the man he was _meant_ to be with (that "chemistry with Quinn/Dianna" gag makes me laugh!) so it's all good ;) Betaed by me; if you happen to spot some (if any) mistakes, please don't hesitate to point them out via review or PM. Thank You!

* * *

Nimble fingers threaded through his hair and pulled at the buttery strands as a hot tongue battled with his. Sam Evans excitedly pushed into the tight heat engulfing him as Kurt Hummel gave his hair an approving tug. Sweat was pouring down the porcelain angel's face in rivets and Sam kept tasting it on his oversized lips. Normally the taste (let alone smell) of sweat made him uneasy but probably because it was Kurt's, it didn't bother him; if anything, he wanted more.

Sam tore his mouth away from Kurt's sore lips and he looked at the small man in his lap with awe. Kurt was practically glowing as he squeezed himself around the welcomed intrusion between his cheeks and rested his hands on Sam's broad shoulders, helping himself push up and down. Sam exhaled sharply through his nose in an attempt to gain control of himself because being with Kurt always threatened to push him over the edge.

"What's the matter, Sammy?" Kurt whispered against Sam's lips, giving the bottom one a little peck.

The stripper shook his head. "Nothing's wrong, baby."

"Then go back to kissing me," Kurt gently ordered, ignoring the pang in his chest caused by Sam calling him 'baby.'

Firm hands wrapped tighter around Kurt's wet waist and Sam lifted the brunette up before he popped out of him and slammed Kurt back down, eliciting a pleasurable shriek from him. Sam smiled smugly and smashed his lips against Kurt's forcefully, pushing up into Kurt's swollen channel with abandon. He felt Kurt's hands go from his shoulders to his sinewy biceps, squeezing the muscles without a care.

In a sense, that was an appropriate sentiment to their arrangement. Sam forced himself to think back almost seven months ago when all this started.

It had been two weeks since leaving Ohio did Sam start dancing as a stripper. In front of his first audience of middle-aged women and a few men, Sam stepped out with his now-partners in crime, Cobra and Mr. Package. Out by the bar sat Kurt, Sam forgetting he'd invited him to visit Kentucky. How he had found his way to Stallionz Sam didn't know (he later learned Kurt arrived early to Kentucky and after his parents said Sam was out at work did he decide to see what Sam's new town had to offer in terms of entertainment); Sam found his inhibitions flying away as he started to move, his eyes on the shocked and blushing brunette the entire time. Through the dim lighting, Sam could feel Kurt's eyes on him as he danced to the beat pumping through the speakers, women shoving their grocery money into his red short-shorts and cheering their heads off for him.

When his time was over and he was back in the locker room, Sam had been slammed against a bank of lockers and Kurt's clothes were flying everywhere his eyes could see. By the time the brunette drove them back to the Evans' new household, Sam was nine hundred bucks (one hundred of it coming from Kurt himself) richer and two loads lighter. Not to mention the fact he left his house that morning a boy and was now being driven back to it a man, the other man accompanying him to his humble abode responsible for the life-changing and mind-blowing metamorphosis.

Neither Sam nor Kurt (especially Sam) seemed to care that Kurt was technically with Blaine Anderson. Sam never cared too much for that snotty little hobbit so the fact that Blank's boyfriend came to him for pleasure never failed to stroke Sam's ego. Like every other time before, Kurt sat at the bar watching women lose their minds over Sam's impressive and languid stripper moves before he'd tip the cute bartender a few bucks and get up off his stool, Sam's set over with. He'd make his way over to the bouncer who guarded the entryway between backstage and the rest of Stallionz; the man would wink at him before stepping aside to let him through, Kurt navigating to the locker rooms where Sam would be waiting for him after his time on stage was done.

Despite how mild-mannered and prudish Kurt appeared, that stuck-up tight-assedness evaporated the instant Kurt was in the woes of steaming passion. He hadn't cared that the other two strippers were in the locker room with them the first time they'd had sex; Cobra had simply wolf-whistled and tossed out a couple bucks while Mr. Package flicked a condom in Sam's direction, both shooting the blonde a thumb's up that Kurt hadn't seen before giving the pair privacy Kurt apparently didn't care whether or not they had. That had certainly made for an interesting first time.

Sam was brought back to reality by the tiny snaps of arousal in his groin and he inhaled through his nose as his eyes caught Kurt's, silently telling him he was close. Kurt nodded and picked up the pace while Sam's hands were guiding up and down his member, the sensation bringing Kurt towards his own release.

With a guttural moan, Sam shot himself inside Kurt, his seed trapped by the confines of the condom he was wearing. Kurt didn't even bother announcing his arrival; his release simply spilled out on Sam's sweaty abs, the blonde's hand still pumping Kurt's swollen organ.

"That was great," Sam sighed, Kurt's head resting languidly against his shoulder. He reached his lips out and pressed a kiss to Kurt's sweaty temple. "Was it good for you too?"

Kurt smiled, Sam catching it from the corner of his eye. "It's always good for me."

"Do you wanna move?"

Loose brown hair went flying lightly as Kurt shook his head. "No. I want to rest for a few minutes."

Sam smiled at that, letting go of Kurt's softened member and wrapping his arms around the brunette's thin waist. "Okay by me," he winked with a grin.

The countertenor snorted, breath hot against Sam's neck. He inhaled in content and pushed Kurt's tired body up with his chest, bringing him back down a second later. Kurt's arms went tighter around Sam's shoulders, his heart beginning to hurt him. Every time he came down to Kentucky, he'd promise himself he wasn't going to wind up back in the locker room with Sam. He'd promise they were going for a walk in the park or to play with Sam's adorable little brother and sister but no. Like magic, Kurt would cross state borders and the Navigator would drive itself on autopilot to the Stallionz parking lot. Kurt would get out, go to the bar and order a soda, watch Sam's set and then make his way to the bodyguard who stood between the locker room and gaggle of women begging to be let back so they can use their wiles to entice one or two or all three of the dancers into doing something in exchange for money. The other two Kurt didn't care about, even though Mr. Package and Cobra (Jesse and Rich, he later learned to call them) were nice to him on the few instances they'd stop and chat for a few minutes but his claws would come out when he overheard some bored housewife trying to proposition the bodyguard for a chance at Sam. Like he'd ever let _that_ happen!

"What're you thinking about?" Sam's sex-husked voice permeated through the mist of his thoughts.

"What?" Kurt asked, picking his head up from Sam's shoulder.

"I asked what you're thinking about?"

Kurt just smiled lightly. "Nothing, just stuff in general."

Sam accepted that, knowing full well how off in his own world Kurt could get sometimes. "Anything you wanna share?"

"Not really," the smaller man answered with a small smile. "I should probably get dressed now."

"Do you wanna take a shower?" Sam offered, knowing exactly how Kurt would react to the question.

As expected, Sam was met with Kurt's best bitch glare, boring through his skull at the mundane question about showering in a locker room that was probably seldom ever cleaned.

"Forget I asked," Sam said with a dopey grin, the only response Kurt would accept before rolling his eyes and letting Sam's softness slip out of him.

Sam set Kurt down on his feet and just sat back, watching the little brunette gather up his clothes and Sam's short-shorts, handing the red garment back to the blonde. Sam smiled lazily at the brunette even though Kurt's back was turned, nimble legs slipping into boxer-briefs and then designer slacks. Even though there was the whole locker room aspect of everything, Sam could easily picture himself and Kurt in a bedroom of their own, getting dressed around each other with contended ease, possibly stealing little glimpses of porcelain or tan skin, smiling goofily when being caught; he really wanted that fantasy to be reality, tired of only having that moment in a cold locker room that didn't belong to either of them.

"What are you thinking about?" Kurt asked, turning to face Sam, the blonde boy really caring that Kurt was watching him tug the rubber off his softened member and tying it up.

Green eyes looked at Kurt's clothed figure and sighed, standing up from the chair Kurt had been riding him in and pulled up the red shorts in the process. "Nothing important."

"Okay then," Kurt said after an uncomfortable moment passed between them. He reached into his blazer pocket and pulled out his wallet.

All Sam could do is watch, knowing it wouldn't do him any good to say anything about how he didn't want Kurt's money.

Ever since their... friends-with-benefits-or-whatever friendship started, Kurt never left without giving Sam some kind of payment. At first it made him feel like a prostitute and it was a horrible feeling. Later he argued with himself that he was taking his clothes off for money; what the hell was the difference? Was it really prostitution if he accepted money from the _only_ person he was sleeping with? After awhile he just stopped caring; he pretended the money came from all the "hard work" he put in at Dairy Queen and used what was left after gassing the car and buying groceries to get little treats for Stacy and Stevie. He was almost sure Kurt wouldn't mind him using the money that way.

A couple crisp twenties revealed themselves from Kurt's billfold and the black leather wallet disappeared in Kurt's breast pocket once more. Kurt sauntered over with a shy grin (which Sam always found ironic considering all the nasty things the pair did to each other while Kurt's clothes and Sam's "work attire" were on the floor) and stuffed the five bills gently down Sam's shorts, causing Little Sam to stir a bit in arousal.

Funny, Sam realized, that never happens when he's on stage and all those women are fighting each other to put their kids' lunch money down his pants.

"Thanks, Sam," Kurt smiled, trying to break through the awkwardness that was beginning to settle between them.

Sam didn't say anything as he stood there with crisp bills nestled against his dick, willing himself to stop trying to stand at attention. Slowly, he walked up behind Kurt and wrapped his arms around the boy, holding him close. He felt Kurt exhale and didn't have to see his face to know that Kurt most assuredly had a pained expression on it.

"Sam—"

"Don't speak, Kurt, just let me hold you," Sam commanded gently.

Kurt sighed in defeat, giving into Sam's request. It's not that he didn't want Sam touching him like this; Gucci _knew_ he did, it's just not how their unspoken arrangement worked. Kurt comes down and watches Sam's show, Kurt and Sam both get off, Kurt gets dressed, Sam gets paid and Kurt knows it goes to treats or toys for the babies and they both go home, Sam here in Kentucky and Kurt back to Ohio, where the sad reality of his life named Blaine 'Boyfriend' Anderson was waiting.

Maybe in some alternate universe, uni-Kurt was being held by uni-Sam after some post-coital bliss brought on by a spontaneous little striptease on uni-Sam's part for uni-Kurt's eyes only, the name Blaine Anderson and the state Kentucky completely foreign to them. Maybe in that alternative universe, uni-Finn Hudson had kept his big mouth shut and stuck his nose out of his uni-stepbrother's business, letting uni-Kurt and uni-Sam have a chance to develop a natural, healthy relationship with each other on their own terms; no driving four hours for thirty minutes of forgetting everything but each other before going their separate ways once more. Maybe in that universe, uni-Dave Karofsky wasn't a jerk and didn't chase uni-Kurt out of school, or uni-Sam was brave from the beginning and fought everyone who threatened uni-Kurt's safety. In that universe, the uni-Evans' didn't have to move from Ohio because they never lost their jobs in the first place. Kurt sighed a little at the thought of that alternative universe and sometimes wished to the God he didn't believe in that that's how things could've turned out for them.

But here Kurt and Sam were in reality, Kurt growing uncomfortable in Sam's embrace (_how_ does that happen?) and the blonde not ready to let him go.

"Let me go Sam," Kurt pleaded softly, trying to wriggle himself from the stripper's hold. "Please let me go."

It pained Sam hearing Kurt sound so afraid so he did as Kurt asked. Kurt breathed in relief as he was released, doing his best to calm himself and stop the pain in his heart from overwhelming him. After a few short moments to himself, Kurt turned and faced Sam, whose confused/hurt expression no doubt mirrored his.

"Well... I'll see you around," Kurt said, ready to take his leave.

"Kurt, wait!" Sam exclaimed, finally growing a pair and grabbing onto the brunette's wrist, preventing him from going anywhere.

Kurt's eyes squeezed shut like he knew what Sam was going to say or do.

"Don't do this Sam," Kurt pleaded, opening his eyes which were brimming with unshed tears. "_Please_ don't do this."

Sam steeled his nerves and took Kurt in his arms, grabbing both wrists in a tight grip and not saying a word until Kurt was looking into his eyes. "Kurt, you deserve better than this. You deserve a man who loves you for you, not treats you like a trophy to hang on his arm. That _hobbit_ doesn't deserve you and you know it. I know it. Even God knows it!"

The smaller man ignored that last remark and concentrated on the first two. "No, we're perfect for each other. He's an attention whore and I'm a cheater; it's a match made in heaven."

"I don't consider what we do cheating," Sam said with conviction. "You and I were supposed to be together in the first place. If your idiot brother hadn't interfered and I'd be braver and honest about my feelings—"

"That's exactly it, right there!" Kurt interrupted. "You weren't brave and honest about your feelings AND you were with Quinn, a girl from what I understand, asked you if you were gay on your first 'date'! Then Santana, a girl who did nothing but belittle you the entire time you were together until she ditched you for Karofsky! Then Mercedes, my former best friend and _another_ girl who thought you were gay to begin with! What was I supposed to do? Wait around for you to grow a set and admit you liked me too? Wasn't I allowed to have someone to call my own, to be happy?"

"_BUT YOU'RE NOT HAPPY KURT!_" Sam screamed, Kurt looking like he'd been slapped in the face because Sam Evans, stripper extraordinaire and porn star-like lover, was one hundred percent correct and there was nothing Kurt could do about that. He _wasn't_ happy. "You're not happy Kurt," Sam said in a calmer, quieter tone. "You're not happy and we both know it." His hands trailed up Kurt's arms and took his face in his moisturizer-soft (courtesy of Kurt) palms. "If you were so happy with that annoying little midget, why would you be here with me? Why would you make an eight-hour round trip two, three, sometimes four times a week to see a guy who's _not_ your boyfriend and end up with your clothes everywhere while you ride that guy like your life depends on it if you were so happy?"

Tears spilled down Kurt's cheeks, his heart throbbing painfully beneath his ribs at every word Sam spoke. Sam brushed Kurt's tears away with his thumbs, flicking the salty moisture away as best he could without removing Kurt's face from his hands.

"I didn't say any of that to be cruel," Sam said gently, staring into Kurt's red-rimmed eyes. "I just hate seeing you torture yourself being with some stubby little ass with greasy hair when you could be with a guy who may not have the world's most acceptable job but loves you with all his heart."

Kurt stood up on tiptoes and reached for Sam's lips, pressing his against the plump set on Sam's face, feeling like it was the first time he and Sam kissed. Sam inhaled through his nose and parted his lips, allowing Kurt's gentle tongue to massage his softly, his heartbeat increasing at the action.

"Dump the hobbit," Sam muttered when Kurt pulled back. "Dump that stupid little hobbit who treats you like dirt and be mine. Be mine _officially_," he stated, noting the look in Kurt's eyes that birthed hope in his heart that Kurt already considered himself Sam's.

"Then what?"

Sam wanted to jump up and down at the question, especially considering Kurt hadn't said no to his request. "We alternate weekends. I come up to Lima sometimes and you stay here with me, no more sneaking around. You can catch the show but after I take you out for dinner and _then_ if you want, we can work that dinner off in bed and you don't pay me for it when we're done."

"I don't _pay_ you for sex, Sam," Kurt explained quietly. "I give you that money in the hope that you'll accept someone taking care of you so you don't have to strip for your rent payments."

_I knew he didn't think I was a whore!_ Sam thought, suddenly forgetting all the tumultuous emotion he put himself through the first time (and every other time) Kurt slipped anything between fifty to five hundred bucks in his shorts.

"What would you do in Lima?" Kurt asked, not ready to admit to Sam that he was going to _finally_ free himself from Blaine and be with the one his heart and soul (as well as body) was destined to be with.

"Simple: take you out to dinner, lay into Finn about pressuring you to end our duet and then play video games with the giant idiot and get threatened and glared at by your dad when I tell him you're my boyfriend," Sam replied, a big grin settling on his face.

Kurt nodded. "There's just one problem with that."

Sam's grin fell slightly, hoping Kurt didn't mean the part about being boyfriends. "What's that?"

The smaller man reached up once more and pressed his lips to Sam's, the blonde sighing into Kurt's kiss. "My dad actually likes you."

"He does?" Sam sounded surprised, not really understanding why because Burt Hummel's never let on before that he didn't like Sam (as well as not disliked him) when he was over at their house or hanging around those few times at the garage with Kurt and Finn.

"The day you fought Karofsky for me," Kurt winked, tracing his fingers along Sam's jawline. "He told me you earned his respect even though he'd never met you."

"So will you do it?" Sam quizzed, moving the conversation back to its original subject. "Will you dump Blank and go out with me?"

Kurt pretended to take a moment but his smile gave him away. "Yes Sam. I'll break up with him in Lima and we can finally be open about our—"

"Don't say relationship," Sam interjected, turning around sharply to start pulling clothes from his locker. "What we have here isn't the kind of relationship I'm gonna have with you."

Glasz eyes watched as Sam's work boots sailed into his locker and jeans were pulled up his legs, sneakers now laced on his feet. A baseball long-sleeve was tugged over his head and Sam snatched his coat up off the bench, slipping it on with ease and quickly pushing the locker door shut. He took Kurt by the hand excitedly and pulled him out of the locker room and out the backdoor, dying sunlight warming their faces.

"So what kind of relationship are we going to have?" Kurt asked, ignoring the looks some of who Kurt recognized as Sam's regulars shot at their joined hands.

"The honest and open kind," Sam answered, not thinking anything of it as he pulled Kurt close beside him. "We're not cheaters because your heart wasn't with Blaine. If I had to guess, I'd say it never was. Am I wrong?"

"No," Kurt said, walking up to Sam's truck and his Nav in the parking lot.

"I didn't even tell you the best part about our relationship," Sam whispered excitedly, looking like a little kid on Christmas morning.

"What's that?" Kurt questioned, eyes beginning to hood with desire.

Sam's lips met his and Kurt melted, ignoring the few feminine catcalls and whistles from whoever was coming in and going out of Stallionz.

"What's the best part?" Kurt asked as Sam's lips gently pulled away from his.

The blonde smiled. "I get to be with you," he answered, going in for another kiss that would again be witnessed by other people and not the cold tile walls of the men's locker room. "I get to be with you," he whispered against the lips he loved so much.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Well, that's it, all done now! This story took a different approach during the writing process; supposed to end on angst but I decided to make it a happy ending instead. I hope you all like it ^^

Chris Colfer's a love; Chord Overstreet is sex on legs. I'll stick with the love... for now! Please review and show me some ^^


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